“The Silken” Part Two
By Templeton Rose
In the silence of Gina’s office, her fingertips whispered up and down the black pantyhose the junior associate was wearing. “You love this, don’t you, Mark?”
As Gina’s hand moved from his legs to his cock, Mark sucked in his breath. Sitting in her office chair, wearing only sheer-to-waist coffee hose and a pair of open-toe heels herself, it pleased Gina to see his young dick strain against the material.
“Yes,” he said through the nylon stocking that was pulled over his face.
The office’s blinds were closed so no one on the darkening streets of Arclight would know what went on in one of the town’s more prestigious boutique law firms. No one would see how Gina, a successful attorney, was using the hired help for her pleasure.
Hard to believe it had only been three weeks since she’d had went into a local store, The Silken, to get out of the rain. It was then that Cheryl, the young Korean-American shop girl, had given Gina a pair of special pantyhose. At the time, Gina had thought it simple kindness. After all, the hose that Gina wore had a run in them and been soaked in the rain.
It had turned out that Cheryl’s gift of the black, sheer-to-waist pantyhose with the gold thread at the seam was the ultimate act of kindness. Those hose changed the wearer. Enslaved her. Or him, as Gina would later find out with Mark. They would work by simply wearing them on your legs, if given enough time.
But they would work much faster if they were pulled over the victim’s head so that the hose’s power could reach the future slave’s faster. An orgasm while the subject was wearing the special nylon would bind them to what Gina now thought of, in honor of the store where she’d found her destiny, as the Silken: the ever-growing family of pantyhose-encased slaves in the wealthy, liberal town of Arclight.
Gina’s hand gripped Mark’s shaft now through the pantyhose that covered it. Mark groaned, and this pleased Gina. She began to run the fingers of her free hand along her hose-covered slit. “You love wearing your nylon mask, too, don’t you, Mark?”
“Yes, I do,” he said. In the office’s dim light, Gina saw pre-cum on his hose.
“I know you do, Mark. You see, wearing a pantyhose mask is a sign of your submission to me.”
“Yes, Mistress. I love it.”
Gina began fingering herself harder through her nylons. There was just something about being called mistress. She was finding that anyone that had enslaved another was that person’s master or mistress. In that way, Cheryl was Gina’s mistress; Cheryl’s mother was Cheryl’s mistress.
As near as Gina could tell, Cheryl’s mother was the one behind it all, the woman who had created the gold-threaded hose, sold them at her high-end hosiery boutique, and so enslaving (or was it liberating?) one-by-one to the good citizens of Arclight. Cheryl’s mother was thus the true Mistress to them all.
Still, while Cheryl’s mother may be the one all the Silken worshiped, there was something uniquely intimate in being someone’s personal mistress, hearing them say that powerful word in reverence. Gina had realized that she wanted to hear her daughter, Laura, call her “mistress” as well, just like Cheryl did with her own mother.
The past few weeks had been practice for Laura’s eventual seduction. She considered this as she kept stroking Mark’s cock.
“Does this dick want to cum, Mark?”
“Yes, Mistress. It wants to cum so bad.”
“Not yet, Mark.” Gina smiled. “You have to be good while I stroke this nice, big, nylon-clad dick of yours. I don’t want you making a spermy mess in your hose just yet.”
There was no gold thread shooting through the nylon seam that covered the dick Gina now toyed with, nor through the pantyhose Mark wore over his face. No need for the special hose at this point. The handsome, late-twenties attorney had been her slave for a while now.
Gina still remembered Cheryl giving her several pairs of the special hose two weeks earlier.
“Do you have any queen-plus sizes,” Gina had asked, looking at the packaging’s size labels.
Cheryl had been dressed only in a pair of suntan hose herself, her cunt sobbing wet from Gina licking it mere moments before. Cheryl had asked, “Won’t those be a bit big for your daughter? I remember that picture you showed me. She’s just an 18-year-old version of you.”
“Our relationship has gotten bad since my husband died. That’s why I want Laura’s seduction to be perfect. And practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” Gina had commented. “There’s a tall, muscled, junior associate in my office that I’ve caught looking at my legs ever since we hired him last year. I think his legs would look wonderful in hose. I know they’d feel wonderful rubbing against mine.”
Even through the nylon slave mask she had on, Gina had seen the look of concern on Cheryl’s face. “If he’s that strong, you may need help getting the hose on him.”
“No, I think seducing a man will be easier than taking a woman.”
“How so?” Cheryl had asked.
“He wants to fuck me—it’s so obvious. Late nights aren’t unusual at our office. I’ll just let him know I’m interested, then tell him I’m a pervert and only like being fucked by men in hose. I know men—I was married to a wonderful example of them. In at least one-way, though, they’re all the same. They’ll do anything for pussy,” Gina had explained.
Cheryl had grinned in approval. “I knew you were going to be a natural at this.”
Mark, of course, hadn’t known any of this when, a day later, Gina had asked him to stay late at the office. “I need to get ready for that deposition next week, and could use the help.”
“Whatever you need,” he had said, not even caring about the suggestiveness of his comment. He was an attractive guy, and even if Gina was a little older than he, her nice legs and tight ass made her quite the Asian MILF.
She and Mark had worked late nights together before, and nothing had happened then. It reasoned that nothing would happen again, Mark had figured, other than some flirting.
She’d contacted him over the office intercom that night only after everyone else had gone home. “Can you come over here? I’m ready to get started.”
“Be right there,” Mark had said.
When he had entered her office, Gina had been sitting on her desk, legs crossed. “Hi,” she’d said. Suddenly, Mark had wondered if there was more than flirting on the agenda that night.
He liked the job with the firm and didn’t want to lose it. His sister worked for the firm, and he didn’t want to endanger her job either.
On the other hand, he had told himself, how often does one get to fuck the boss? Worse case scenario he would have to leave if things became awkward, but she’d have to write a glowing reference to avoid a sexual harassment claim. Best case, they’d start something semi-regular, and he could empty his balls at the office from time-to-time.
Either way, it wouldn’t be a lifetime commitment or involuntary servitude, and however it ended, he’d be okay. He’d decided to see how far this would go. “Hi yourself,” he’d said, closing the door.
“Are you ready to get started on that deposition?”
He looked her straight in the eye. Gina was Asian, and wearing more eyeliner than usual heightened her exoticism. “I’ll do anything you want me to do.”
“Soon enough,” she’d said. “First, we need to talk about something else: I’ve been noticing you looking at my legs a lot.”
Being a lawyer, he’d tried to obfuscate the issue. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb, Mark. I’ve seen you looking at me. All the time. I didn’t ask you here for a sexual harassment seminar. I just want to know why.”
Mark had always been so confident in court, but now felt awkwardly boyish. He was handsome, had slept with a lot of women. But at his core, he remembered how he’d been as a kid, getting into his mom’s hosiery drawer. He’d still felt shame about it, had spent a lifetime erecting an edifice of cool success to hide the embarrassed little boy within. “You just have nice legs.”
“Do you like my stockings? I find a lot of men’s eyes linger whenever a woman is wearing pantyhose.”
Mark had begun looking at the floor. “Yes.”
“It’s okay, Mark,” she’s said, crossing then re-crossing her legs. “I wear pantyhose because I like the attention. More specifically, I like your attention.”
Mark had looked up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean come over here.”
She had taken his hand, placed it on her legs. “It’s better to feel than just to look, isn’t it, Mark?”
Mark had gone flush. “Yes.”
Mark had, rubbing her legs harder as he did. Feeling the material, and her hot tongue in his mouth, Mark’s dick had been hard enough to cut glass.
Gina then had stood up. Turning her back to him, she’d leaned over her desk. “Can you help me with my skirt?”
Mark had unfastened the hook, then slid down the zipper. Gina’s skirt had fallen around her spiked heels, exposing her nylon-clad ass. The seam of her hose had run perfectly down her crack, as though they had been machined to her body.
“You’re not wearing any underwear?” he’d asked, somewhat stunned.
“Don’t you like how I look in nylon without any ugly cotton obstructing the view?” She’d wiggled her ass.
“God, yes,” Mark had said. Then, staring at her nylon-encased lower body, he saw that the seam of her hose was cut out. Right at her crotch.
Christ, he was going to fuck a senior associate through her pantyhose! She wanted it, the fucking slut!
Mark had begun fumbling with his zipper, pulled his erect cock out, but Gina had turned to him. “Not yet.”
“You’re not dressed appropriately,” she had explained. Her purse had been on her desk. Mark watched as she had pulled out pair of hose. “Put these on.”
He had looked at her. “Are you serious?”
“Do you want to fuck me or not? Judging by your dick, you do, but there’s an entrance fee. I only want a real pervert otherwise I’ll be bored. Prove you’re worthy.” She had drawn close to him, rubbed the pantyhose she held against his cock. “You like looking at them, you like touching them. You’ll love wearing them. I promise. Put them on, bitch.”
The nylon against his dick, the sensation had been amazing.
“Okay,” he’d said.
He had taken the hose from her, and unbuttoned his shirt. She had watched him strip, taking off the rest of his suit practically in a single motion.
Gina had begun unbuttoning her blouse. As it had slipped to the floor, Mark had seen that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She had simply pulled her hose up over her tits.
“Go on, Markie. Get dressed for me.”
Naked, he’d sat on the leather couch, looked at the hose for a second. He’d noticed a gold thread at the seam only because it stood out against the nylons’ coffee-hue, but didn’t think anything of it. Then he’d bunched one leg of the hose up at his foot before pulling it up to his thigh.
It had felt good, being encased. Surprisingly so. That sensation, along with the promise of fucking Gina, had compelled him to quickly get the nylons on him.
“You put those on like you’ve done it before,” Gina had said with a laugh.
Mark hadn’t said anything to her playful comment. The truth was, he had tried on his mother’s pantyhose as a boy. A few times, in fact.
He’d liked the feeling then, to his eternal shame, having his bare penis rubbing against the hose where his mother’s pussy had been. Pulling the nylons up over his dick and ass in front of Gina, it had felt like a homecoming.
Mark had been standing now, showing off his shaft through the nylon.
“Mmmmm, you look good,” Gina’d said. “How do you feel?”
“Good. Amazing, actually.” He’d been surprised how powerful the hose made him feel. The hose felt incredible against his skin, firmly encasing him. Almost as they were gently guiding him. He hadn’t ever felt so sexual in his entire life.
“One more thing and your outfit will be complete,” Gina had said, taking another pair of the hose from her purse.
“What are those for?”
“Your face. Wear it over your head like you’re a robber. You can pretend like you’re raping me.”
By then, he had been so horny like if anyone even breathed hard on his dick he’d cum. Mark had been surprised he didn’t blow a cum load into his hose as he followed Gina’s directive.
These pantyhose had matched the ones on his legs, right down to the golden thread worming its way through the center seam. As commanded, he’d pulled them over his face.
“Do you like your pantyhose mask, Mark?” Gina had asked, stroking his dick.
“What’s it feel like?”
It had been hard for him to explain. It was like a woman’s fingers running through his hair, and then into his mind, massaging any self-disgust or doubt away. The fact he’d worn pantyhose before wasn’t something to be ashamed of, but the most natural thing in the world.
“I just feel...like I belong here,” he’d said.
“No. You belong inside me.” With that, Gina had guided him back to the couch.
She’d pressed him down, then pulled the waistband of his hose freeing his cock. Squatting above him, she’d impaled his dick through her hose’s torn seam, and into her yearning cunt.
Mark had yelled, feeling her tight, warm wetness envelop him. “Oh fuck!”
She’d begun riding him, placing her hands on either side of his pantyhose mask, as if afraid he’d tear it off.
She needn’t have worried. Of all the women he’d ever fucked, none had made him feel like this. He had wondered if the mask was slightly cutting off his oxygen, making him feel high.
Was he in danger? He’d suddenly felt like this had all gone too perfectly, like this was all some kind of a trap.
Except she was a woman, and he a man. He could take anything she threw at him if it were a set-up. Besides, it just felt so fucking good.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Markie,” Gina had commanded between thrusts.
Mark had been going to run with the robber-rape scene Gina had suggested when she’d handed him the pantyhose mask, but something else had suddenly asserted itself in his consciousness, massaging away his shame.
If there’s nothing to be ashamed of, why not tell her? Mark thought.
“I’m thinking about when I was 18, a high school senior. No one was home, and I tried on some of my mother’s pantyhose,” Mark had said, so turned on by the memory he’d licked the inside of his mask after uttering it.
Gina had kept jamming herself on his cockhead “I like that, Markie. Tell me more. What else do you remember about that? Think hard.”
He’d been about to tell her how he jagged off in the hose, watched fascinated as the seed from his cum strained through the nylon.
Except whatever had been massaging his thoughts had seemed to be molding them, and he remembered something that didn’t actually happen.
Or did it?
The feeling of Gina on his shaft, of the pantyhose on his body, and now the pressure in his mind, Mark hadn’t been able to stop from telling her what he was thinking.
“I’d done it before over the years, but this time my mother,” Mark began uncertainly, “she walked in while I had the hose on.”
Gina’s sweat had been falling onto his bare Asian tits, her hose slick against his. “What did you do? I need details.”
“I tried to hide,” Mark had said, the memory rooting itself deeper into him, “but she found me in my room. She told me to come out.”
“What did she do when she found her naughty, nylon boy, Markie?”
“She told me that I hadn’t done anything wrong, and led me by the hand from the closet. She sat me on my bed. I wanted to get something to throw over myself. My boner was so big in my hose, even after she found me, and I was embarrassed.”
“What happened then?” Gina’s manicured hands had moved from Mark’s stocking-covered head to her nipples, and she twisted them like stubborn bottle-tops.
“She had just gotten home from work and was still in her suit skirt. She was wearing black pantyhose. She said she liked pantyhose too, that it was a family trait. Then she lifted her skirt to show me how much she liked them, and I saw that she wasn’t wearing panties.”
“Oh god, Mark, tell me more!”
Mark had been speaking compulsively, the memory fully created by his slave-mask: “Mommy said that since I liked her hose so much, maybe I’d like to touch them while she was wearing them. I did and it felt so good and I was getting so hard. Mommy pulled down my hose, grabbed by dick. With her free hand, she popped a hole in the crotch of her hose, then positioned me on top of her.”
“What did you do when you were on top of your mommy?”
“Her legs locked around my pantyhose-covered ass, and she guided my dick into her. And....and I was fucking my mommy,” Mark had shouted through his nylon mask, “I was fucking my mommy right through her pantyhose and she was telling me how much she liked it, and I came, my young cum shooting into her mommy-cunt, and…oh fucking Christ, I can’t hold it!”
His cum load had shot into Gina’s pussy as she had kept riding him, using her quim to milk his seed. Gina had watched through his mask as Mark’s eyes fluttered, rolled back into his head, his orgasm so intense he’d passed out.
And Gina had looked at him: the Silken’s newest member, her first victim, and the first man whose cum she’d had since her husband passed away. She’d felt so alive. Now that Mark’s memories had been rewritten to think he’d done something so perverted as having pantyhose sex with his mother, why, he’d be capable of anything.
Including helping Gina make other pantyhose slaves.
With Mark a slave the past several weeks, work had become a joy. Gina still worked hard as ever. Even as a Silken slave, there were bills to pay, the most important being to provide for her 18-year-old daughter. It was good, though, to have something to look forward to at the end of the day. In this case, it was having a man ten years her junior fuck her through her pantyhose, while yelling that she was his mistress as his cock pumped its sweet seed into her womb.
“Oh fuck,” Gina whispered now, still working her pussy while playing with Mark’s dick. She was close to orgasm.
“Mistress, may I cum now, please?” Mark begged, still standing straight as a soldier, with his dick sticking out like a flagpole off a Manhattan skyscraper.
“Soon, darling, soon.”
Just then, the door to Gina’s office opened.
Anyone walking in at that moment would have been in for quite a sight. A beautiful, late-thirties Asian woman, lithe and tone, wearing only a pair of high heels, and coffee-colored pantyhose on her legs and face. Her dress crumpled on the floor, her legs spread wide while rubbing her pussy with her left hand, her right on the stiff, thick cock of an athletically-built man who was wearing black pantyhose, with a matching pair pulled over his head to make a mask.
It was an image that would have left someone in shock.
Unless, they had already been taken by the Silken.
From her chair, more a throne now, Gina regarded the twenty-two-year-old woman now entering.
“Mistress,” the girl said simply through her pantyhose mask, her long blonde hair spilling out from underneath it.
The girl was wearing a simple wool skirt that she shed after closing the office door behind her. Her shaved pussy was obvious through the sheer black pantyhose. Next, she pulled off her sweater, and unbuttoned the blue shirt underneath. Both fell to the floor silently, and the girl stood nearly totally revealed. She was 5′6″ with athletic arms and legs. They seemed somewhat incongruous with the soft heaviness of her breasts as they poured out from her unfastened lace bra.
“Amy, you look lovely this evening. So glad you could stay late again,” Gina said.
“I’m always happy to put in long hours for you,” Amy said as she approached Gina and Mark wearing nothing now but the hose on her face and legs, and a pair of black, high heeled boots.
“And look at you,” Gina continued, “wearing your black pantyhose. The same kind, I see, that your brother here is wearing.”
Like anything good, you can’t stop at just one. Gina certainly couldn’t. Enslavement was addicting.
A week after Mark’s capitulation to her and the Silken, Gina had found herself wanting another slave.
She could have attempted the seduction of her daughter then, but Gina didn’t think herself ready. Laura needed to be a masterpiece. She had decided to continue practicing.
Who to enslave? Her law firm had quite a few handsome male attorneys, some younger than her, some older. It also had some very pretty female attorneys to choose from. There was even more selection in the office’s administrative staff. Mostly women Gina’s age or younger. Even before Gina had been made a bisexual, nylon-loving slut, she’d often thought her firm had an unusually high percentage of attractive women working as secretaries and paralegals.
The answer came to her one night late at the office when Mark had shed his suit to reveal his hose underneath, and Gina had sucked his cock until he’d cum through his nylons. Mark’s sister Amy had just graduated Boston University last spring. With the economy still bad and law school becoming more competitive, Amy had decided to take a year off to get a job, shore-up her finances, and hopefully get some legal experience to burnish her law school application.
Mark had been such a hard worker that the firm had given Amy a job as Gina’s secretary. And, like her brother, she had made a great addition to the office.
When Gina had informed Mark that he would help her enslave his sister, she’d asked, “Do I see your dick getting harder at the thought of that?”
“You do, Mistress.”
“You know I’m going to fuck your sister,” she had said.
“Of course,” Mark had said, grabbing his dick and rubbing it against his hose.
“You’re going to fuck her too, Markie,” Gina had said.
Three nights later, Gina had asked Amy to work late. A dutiful employee, Amy had agreed. And then, while she’d been drafting letters for Gina, her brother, wearing nothing but his hose and slave mask, had come up behind her.
“What the fuck?” Amy had screamed as Mark had grabbed her. “Mark, what are you doing?”
Mark had said nothing as he wrestled Amy from her cubicle, and towards Gina’s office.
Amy hadn’t any idea what was going on, why Mark was doing this. Yet somehow she knew that if she allowed herself to be taken into Gina’s office, something terrible would happen to her. No stranger to the gym, she’d thrown her elbows into Mark’s abdomen while kicking up her legs at the doorjamb to keep him from taking her in.
To Amy’s disgust, she had felt her brother’s dick become harder beneath his pantyhose the more she resisted. “Jesus Christ, why are you doing this?” she’d pleaded.
“Because she commanded me to. Because I want to see you covered in hose, just like me. And because the truth is, I’ve always wanted to fuck you, baby sister,” Mark had said as he put his greater strength and weight into it, and tossed Amy through the door.
Amy had fallen onto the carpet inside Gina’s office, and heard Mark closing the door behind him as he entered.
I’m trapped, she had thought. Amy had looked up from the floor to see if there was any escape. That’s when she had seen Gina.
Her boss, the kind woman that Amy had known and come to trust the last few months, the one that her brother had talked about as one of the smartest attorneys in the state. That Gina wasn’t here anymore. In her place was this woman who had been waiting for Mark to bring Amy to her. This version of Gina was wearing only sheer-to-waist, navy-colored pantyhose. Gina’s bare tits exposed, she looked at Amy with a terrifying mixture of contempt and desire.
“Be honest: do you like what I did to your brother?” Gina had said while her hands played with a pair of pantyhose, perfectly black except for a golden thread which Amy noticed spindling down the hose’s center-seam.
“You did this to him?” Amy had yelled. “Why?”
“Because it just feels so fucking good,” Gina had said. “You’ll find out about that soon enough. Mark, would you mind?”
Mark then had placed his forearm against the back of his sister’s neck, forcing Amy down onto the floor.
“No!” Amy had screamed.
“I love hearing you say that, sis,” Mark had said through his hose-mask.
“Pity we won’t be hearing it much longer once she’s one of us,” Gina had said as she dropped to her knees. Once on the floor, Gina took the special pantyhose that she had in her hands, and fitted them over Amy’s head. “It’s shouldn’t be too long, now.”
With the gold-threaded hose on her, Amy had felt an immediate difference. There was something in her mind, a certain pressure, that now seemed to be gently guiding her.
It was in her memories, Amy had realized, and seemed to cling on to one memory in particular.
It had been a few years ago. Her older brother Mark was home from college. Mark had been pretty skinny growing up, but had grown into his body putting on lots of lean muscle while at school.
Her parents had been out this one morning. A typical 18-year-old high school senior, Amy had slept in until close to noon. When she’d gotten up, she heard the shower down the hall running.
Amy had passed down the hall on her way to the stairs, and noticed that the door was slightly ajar. The house was old, and she knew that this door wasn’t perfectly fitted to its frame, occasionally popping open.
That must have been what happened here. As she passed by, she saw through the small gap between the door and the jamb her brother through all the steam. He was naked, about to get in the shower. Amy to her surprise and self-disgust couldn’t help but notice how good he looked.
It was only a second, and thank goodness he hadn’t noticed her. But the image was burned into her mind, then and forever more. That image, it had made her suddenly wet between her legs.
She had gone down into her father’s study, and once she was sure her parents were out and Mark was still upstairs, she had masturbated. Gotten herself off while thinking of her brother’s wonderful body.
But the hose were changing the memory. Now, her brother was wearing pantyhose when she had spied him in the bathroom. And when she was masturbating, she had been wearing pantyhose beneath her pajama pants.
Amy had realized that this wasn’t what had happened, but the memory kept changing. She couldn’t stop it, was powerless to resist her psyche being peeled back. Now the memory was that her father had found her masturbating in his study. He approached her, and began taking off his khakis. He was wearing a pair of pantyhose beneath them.
With her memories changing, Amy had stopped fighting, and Mark had been able to turn her over onto her back. Gina had started pulling Amy’s black pants down, then slipping off the white lace thong she had on underneath.
“No,” Amy had said weakly again from beneath her pantyhose mask. A tear had run down her face, staining the nylon.
Gina had positioned herself next to her latest victim, said, “Amy, dear, this pussy of yours needs some attention. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Gina had then slipped her fingers along Amy’s clit, before penetrating her.
Amy had moaned. She still had known she shouldn’t respond to it like this, that this supplication was what Gina and her brother wanted. But it just felt so fucking good. Why resist?
Her changed memories had made it easier. If you have a memory of performing perverse acts with your family while wearing pantyhose, it’s so much easier to just keep going with it. After all, she remembered sucking off her daddy through his nylons, and then how he licked her young pussy through her own hose. Once you cross that line in your mind, the only choice you have is to keep going. Embrace yourself as a pantyhose slut.
Which might explain what had happened next. Mark was kneeling at his sister’s side still, though no longer needing to hold her down. His dick was still making a tent of the nylons he wore. That big dick of his, it wasn’t that far from her face.
With her hand, Amy suddenly reached up, grabbed Mark’s cock to their mutual surprise. She had gripped it hard, then she had brought it to her mouth and started sucking it right through her pantyhose mask, and the nylons he was wearing.
“Oh, fuck, baby sis,” Mark had said. “You’re such a good sister, sucking big brother’s shaft like that.”
“Look at you, Amy,” Gina had said with a laugh. “A natural pantyhose, brother-sucker.”
Amy’s mouth worked even harder on her brother’s dick until finally, Amy felt the warm jet of his seed pushing through his nylons and her hose mask, and into her welcoming mouth.
Her brother’s cum, and Gina’s fingering of Amy’s pussy, had made the young woman’s orgasm inevitable. The orgasm had seemed to radiate from Gina’s finger into Amy’s clit, and then spread to the rest of her body in violent wave. The wave of that sensation had washed away the old Amy as she slipped into unconsciousness, replacing it with something new: the enslaved and liberated Amy, another addition to the Silken.
In the days since Amy’s conversion, Gina was still enjoying the novelty of having two siblings as slaves, still getting used to the power she hoped to extend soon over her own daughter.
Now as Amy approached her and Mark, Gina released her grip on Mark’s pantyhosed cock. “I think his pump has been primed enough.” Gina eased herself out of her chair, and sat her tight, nylon ass on the desk. She leaned back, spread her legs. “Amy, pleasure me, you fucking cum-slut.”
Amy didn’t hesitate. She glided towards her Mistress, bent over, put her elbows down on the desk, and gripped Gina’s ass.
As Amy’s mouth moved towards Gina’s waiting twat, Gina called over to Mark. “Fuck your sister while she’s fucking me. Your choice: pussy or her ass.”
“I’ll fuck her pussy, Mistress.”
“Just promise me it’ll be my ass later, brother,” Amy said, before turning back to Gina’s slit, and attaching her nylon-sheathed mouth to it with the urgency of a thirsty tick.
Behind her, Mark pulled down the waistband of his pantyhose, freeing his swollen dick. He approached his sister from behind, put his cock between her hosed-encased cheeks with his right hand, and then with his left reached to his sister’s pussy. With his finger, he popped a hole into the nylon protecting Amy’s pussy, and his finger stabbed into her cunt.
“Mmmmmmm,” Amy groaned as she continued lapping at Gina’s pussy.
“That’s right, Amy, your brother’s going to fuck you now,” Gina said, sweat beginning to glisten on her tits.
Mark removed his finger from his sister, and tore a hole along the seam of Amy’s pantyhose, exposing her pussy. Then he took his thick dick, and inserted it into his sister.
“Oh fuck, sis, I’m in your pussy again,” Mark breathed.
Watching this, Gina grabbed with one of her hands the back of Amy’s masked head, pushed the girl’s mouth harder against her. “That’s right, Mark, fuck your sister’s pussy. You know she wants it. She always wants her big brother cock. Isn’t that right, slut-Amy?”
In response, Amy lapped at her Mistress’s pussy even harder, grabbed her Mistress’s ass more tightly.
Mark gripped Amy’s pantyhosed thighs as he fucked her from behind. He was jamming his dick harder and harder into her, and Gina could feel Amy quiver in response.
“I love fucking my sister’s tight pussy, Mistress,” Mark said through his mask.
“I know, darling, she’s just such a good slut, taking your dick and eating my pussy at the same time.”
“I want to cum in my sister,” Mark cried out.
“You want to fill your sister’s tight pussy with your seed?”
“Oh Christ, yes.”
“Have all those spermies in her pussy, so she can feel you still inside her when she goes back home to your parents’ tonight? You need to cum, Mark, it’s okay, cum in your sister while I’m coming from her mouth, she’s such a good little snatch-licker, she’s making your Mistress cum,” Gina said, the words pouring from her as the pleasure mounted in her pussy.
“I can’t hold it any longer,” Mark yelled.
“Don’t, baby, pour it all into your sister, every fucking drop of it!”
Mark’s head titled back and he roared in triumph as his cum shot deep into Amy.
Amy felt the warmness inside her, the sweet cum her brother was injecting into her womb. She had been close already, but the sensation of his cum filling her—the wrongness of what they were doing—brought her to orgasm.
Mark, Amy, and Gina were connected like a cable conducting electric current. The orgasm moved from Mark into Amy, and finally into Gina. The sight of brother fucking sister, brother coming in sister, sister coming because of brother, pushed Gina over the edge.
“That’s it babies, cum for me, cum for your Silken mommy!” Gina screamed as the orgasm broke over her. And in that moment, referring to herself as mommy, Gina knew she was ready for her daughter.
Brother and sister collapsed onto the floor, a sweaty heap of spent, incestuous lust. Exhausted, breathing heavy, Gina’s head fell back as she remained on the desk. Her eyes happened upon a picture of Laura sitting on the credenza. It was her little girl’s freshman portrait, and Laura looked lovely in it.
While coming down from her orgasm, Gina studied the picture. Then she whispered to it, “You’re next.”